Shared Dream

Shared Dream

White lace dress in a dark room.
Mist in the trees, low light.

Former lover in a busy train station,
entering a train you can’t get to.

The clock, later every second
that you look at it, hours going.

Hot upstairs of a house.
Lemonade you spill with each step.

The dog, dead when you were
a child, alive, barking at the back door,

your shirt that won’t come off,
your mouth that can’t make sound.